


Stained Glass Truth

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Series: Fairytale/Supernatural AU [12]
Category: Coraline (2009), Coraline - All Media Types, Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, tragic monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-04 08:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12165336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: It starts with a weird door in the wall, but what Steven finds within is a distortion of reality.





	1. Fraud

Steven woke up when the truck jolted to a final stop, his cassette tape having run out a few miles back. He rubbed at his eyes, making a face at the horrible taste in his mouth, and heard his dad open up the driver’s door.

“Hey, Steven,” his dad said, smiling. His eyes looked tired from the driving. “Did you sleep good?”

“Yeah.” He took off his seatbelt and opened up the passenger door for the truck. His flip flops made a noise against the mud. Any other time it would have made him laugh.

Steven saw the moving van parked in front of the truck, and he held tightly onto his cassette tape and the ear buds connected to the sound jack. A three story house stood in front of the moving van, the ground floor looking like it had seen better days. The floor above it had a new coat of paint, and the roof tiles were clean. There was an underground floor, Steven guessed, but he couldn’t see the entrance to it right now.

He walked to the bed of the truck, looking inside. He fished out a small box of his belongings, watching as his dad carried a small, silver urn to the back of the house. Steven rewound his cassette tape and let himself get lost in the instrumental piece.

 He moved around the moving van and the workers, carrying the box. He made his way up the stairs to what was going to be his room, and he spotted an alcove window. Steven sat down on the bench and peeled open the tape that kept the box closed. He reached in and took out a stack of cards, the envelopes tied neatly together with a ribbon. There was a present that was lumpy, and a card stuck to it.

Steven placed the cards next to the box and picked up the lone card. His name was in cursive in the middle of the envelope and he put it down, trying to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes and took in a breath, getting up from the alcove. He explored the house, finding that the inside was better than the outside.

There was a part in the living room where it looked like the wallpaper was covering up a small door, small enough in height for him to have to kneel down. He reached out to touch the overlap of the door and wallpaper, finding that there was a keyhole.

After finishing with moving the furniture in he would ask his dad for help to find the key.

The movers were bringing in boxes, and Steven would rush to open them up. Anything that he couldn’t lift up out of the box he would come back for when there was help.

At one point his dad came in to help and lifted up a few kitchen chairs out of their boxes, quietly muttering about his back. He noticed the various things Steven rescued from the boxes and laughed.

“Thanks, Steven,” he said as the boy walked by, carrying a box of silverware. “In no time you’ll become a strong kid.”

“I’m strong,” Steven said, placing the box on the counter and flexing his arms. He wanted to hear his dad laugh again.

“I know,” His dad said. “You’ve done a lot of work. How about you do the socializing for the both of us for now?”

“Okay, dad.” Steven pushed the box of silverware so that it wasn’t so close to the edge of the counter and opened up the backdoor. He saw the garden out there and hurried down to the ground floor.

The door there was old and the paint was flaking off. There was a window pane in the door covered with a curtain, the pattern polka dots and old. Steven knocked on the door, looking down to see a placemat that said, “Please wipe feet,” with little butterflies flying in stasis on the mat.

Steven did so, and the door opened. A tall woman stood there, dressed in a sweater and skirt, her hair short. There was a scar on her forehead.

 “Oh, hello,” she said, looking down at him. She moved so that Steven could walk inside.

“You must be Steven,” she said as they walked through the narrow hallway. “My name is Pearl; it’s very nice for you to visit us.”

Steven looked at the walls as he walked, seeing pictures of family neatly positioned on the walls. They were tastefully hung up, the sizes complimenting each other.  
Finally, at the end of the hall there was a kitchen on the right and the living room on the left. Steven saw another woman, shorter and stocky and wearing workout clothes, making herself something to eat. She looked up from the bread when she heard their footsteps.

“Heyo,” she said. “That’s Steven, huh? You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“Amethyst,” Pearl said in a tone that was half-hearted scolding. 

Steven stayed with them for a while, answering the standard questions that adults wanted to know; “How are you,” “Are you excited for your new school,” “What did you like to do at your old school,” finally ending when Pearl clapped her hands together and said, “Garnet should be home by now, why don’t you go visit her?”

Steven nodded and the three of them went through the hallway to the front door. When he turned around to say good-bye he saw Pearl wringing her hands.

“Steven,” she said, “I’m so sorry about your mother.”

Behind her Amethyst nodded and let her gaze fall to the floor.

“Thank you,” Steven said quietly, because he wasn’t sure of what else to say.

“Do you want a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich for the road,” Amethyst offered as he turned the door knob.

“No, thank you,” Steven replied. He waved as he slipped through the door. He ran up the stairs, winding around the house to climb to the third floor. At the top Steven took a moment to look over the railing. He could see a forest sprawled out, the trees high and dense. Steven turned around to see that the door was slightly open.

He pushed it, calling out, “Hello?” but received no answer. The hallway was short and there were a few pictures hung up on it.

Steven crept in and looked at the frames. He saw a photograph of two old women holding each other and smiling, the plate reading, “Mom and Mama.” There were more pictures of them, some old and some young and some with a girl. There was one picture with the two old women, Pearl, Amethyst and presumably Garnet in front of a glass case that held many gems. The plate read, “R. Sugar Geology Museum.”

Steven found himself at the end of the hallway. There was a woman sitting at a huge desk, her curls tied up and pinned to the back of her head. There were cases of gems on the desk, labeled and organized though by which merits Steven didn’t know.

“Hello,” he said again and the woman turned her chair around. She took a closer look at him and said, “Hello, Steven. I am Garnet.”

Steven half-expected her to put a hand on the top of his head and found that he wouldn’t have minded. Garnet put a hand to her chin and turned back to her cases. She picked up a black colored gem that was cut for a necklace. She took thick string and pushed it through the bail, tying the ends together tightly. Garnet held it out and pressed it into Steven’s palms.

“Apache tear,” she said and nothing more.

Steven put it on, the gem resting against the center of his chest. It seemed almost rude to say anything other than thank you and good-bye, so he said both of them and walked out of the room.

As Steven began walking down the stairs he spotted a figure standing near the trees. It was a girl, her brown hair reached her back and her yellow raincoat and red boots were bright against the forest. Before Steven could call out hello the girl walked into the woods and disappeared in the trees.

-

Dinnertime that night was quiet, and Steven barely registered what the take-out food tasted like. After dinner he went to explore the house. He steered clear of the bottom bathroom when he turned on the lights and saw how grimy it was.

The boxes in the living room were piled up and as Steven peeked around them he saw something nearby one of the larger boxes. It was a crocheted doll, a miniature version of him right down to the clothes. Steven picked it up and touched one of the button eyes. It was smooth and when he touched the doll’s hair he thought he heard his mom call his name.

Steven whirled around and saw the irregular shape in the wallpaper. He remembered the weird door, and ran to the kitchen.

“Dad,” he said, and his dad turned away from scrubbing at the dirty counter.

“Where’s the fire?” His dad asked, drying his hands.

“There’s a _door_ in the wallpaper,” Steven said.

His dad hummed. “A door? I think the old owners had a ring of keys somewhere…”

It took a few tries but eventually a drawer procured a ring of keys. Steven led his dad to the shape in the wallpaper and eagerly watched as the wallpaper was torn and the correct key was jammed into the keyhole.

The door unlocked but revealed a wall of bricks.

“Oh,” Steven said, his voice full of disappointment. He reached out to push at the wall to see if it would move. His dad patted his back.

“Sorry, Steven,” his dad said. “Hey, maybe there’s another secret in this house! We’ll look together tomorrow, okay?”

He got up and headed back to the kitchen. Steven stuck out his tongue at the brick wall and pushed the door closed.

-

When he had brushed his teeth and gotten changed into his pajamas Steven slipped under the covers of his bed. He ran his hand through his doll replica’s hair, and made the doll dance. Steven wondered when his mom made this doll and then shook his head. He put the doll on the chair nearby his bed and took off the apache tear necklace.

He rested his head against the pillow and fell into a dreamless sleep.

It felt like a few minutes later but Steven heard music, like a music box. He opened his eyes and rubbed at them. When his vision cleared he saw light from downstairs, glowing through the gaps in the rungs of the banister.

Steven got up and crept down the stairs, the old wood creaking under his light steps. The door in the wall of the living room was open and Steven could hear the music when he got close. He crawled through the opening, the tunnel within stony but welcoming.

When he got to the end of the tunnel the living room was on the other side but cleaner and more vibrant. Steven didn’t dwell on this because he heard a voice that made his heart drop into his stomach.

Steven ran to the source of the singing voice and the word he uttered was muffled by his hands.

“Mom?”


	2. Deceit

At Steven’s voice the woman standing in front of the stove turned around. Her voice was the same, her face and her hair the way he remembered it. But his mother, miraculously standing there, had missing eyes. In their place were two black buttons.

“Good evening, Steven,” she said sweetly. Her voice was wrong, like someone had changed the pitch of it to sound like congealed honey and syrup.

Steven stepped back, the logical side of his brain demanding that this was a dream. He managed, “You’re a dream…”

“That’s what your father said when we first met.” The woman tilted her head and chuckled. “I’m your Other Mother.”

“Other Mother,” he repeated.

“Now, now, close that gaping mouth,” the Other Mother said. “Go to the dining room. Dinner will be ready soon.”

She turned back to the stove and Steven thought to bolt back to the door. He breathed out and walked to the dining room, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.

The dining room was extravagant. A chandelier overlooked the table, a round one with a pure white tablecloth. There was a large portrait to Steven’s left, one that depicted his parents’ wedding; except everyone had button eyes.

“Hello,” said his father’s voice. Steven looked away from the painting and saw who he presumed was the Other Father at the other doorway. The Other Father shambled to a chair and pulled it out, waving his hand over it. Steven complied and the chair scraped as the Other Father pushed it forward.

The Other Father took the chair opposite Steven and looked at him. His button eyes were chipped.

“Hello,” Steven said, his gaze drifting down to the tablecloth.

“There are no cars in this world,” the Other Father said slowly, deliberately. “Your mother made sure of that.”

Steven’s hands closed over the fabric of his pajamas.

“There are no tears here,” the Other Mother scolded. She placed a cake and a large pizza on the table. A glass of milk appeared by Steven’s plate.

The smell of the pizza made Steven’s mouth water. He reached out and pulled off a slice. The bread was crunchy and soft. The cheese wasn’t too chewy and there was an abundance of tomato sauce. The pizza was wonderfully warm and didn’t burn his tongue.

“If you would like,” said the Other Mother, “I can make sure that your friends arrive here.”

Steven was going to reply but his empty plate was taken away and a fresh plate with a piece of cake took its place.

It was yellow cake with butter cream frosting. Steven saved the majority of the frosting for last but it still tasted delicious instead of gluey.

“We would like to know you,” said the Other Father.

“We want to help you,” the Other Mother added. She stood up and walked to Steven. She put a hand on his shoulder and it felt deathly cold.

“But that will be later. It is time for bed.”

-

Steven gasped at the room presented to him. The carpet was softer than clouds and there was an abundance of toys on the shelves. There was a large bookcase lined up with games and consoles. A smooth, polished ukulele hung from the wall and the alcove’s seats were cushioned and the window panes were plastered with stickers.

A small part of Steven wondered if it was too selfish to want this. The thought passed because he yawned deeply, suddenly overtaken by sleepiness. The Other Mother led him to the bed, a bed with soft, fresh sheets and a heavy, pink comforter. Steven pulled the sheet and comforter over himself and rested his head on the pillow.

He heard the Other Mother and Father coo, “Sweet dreams,” and he fell into sleep.

-

Steven woke up and saw the cracked wall above him. The room was plain, and he was certain now that everything was a dream. It was an extravagant dream but better than ones he experienced in a long while.

The day was spent unpacking boxes and over dinner Steven’s dad mentioned going to a musical with their new neighbors. Steven declined going along.

When it was night Steven went down the stairs when he was supposed to be asleep. He wanted to make sure it really was a dream. But the door was open again and Steven walked through it.

“Welcome back,” called the Other Mother when he entered the living room. He walked into the kitchen and saw her there, with a plate piled high with pancakes in the center of the table. There was toast, eggs, bacon and sausage on different plates.

“Your father made this for you,” the Other Mother said, holding her hand over the food. Steven went to sit at the table, and he took a little of everything. The Other Mother looked at him with adoration and Steven fidgeted.

The pancakes were fluffy and soon smothered with syrup. Steven was chewing on toast when the Other Mother spoke.

“Our neighbor has invited you upstairs,” she said.

Steven nodded and finished eating. He was going to carry his plate to the sink but the Other Mother took it from him.

Steven went outside and paused when he saw the grass. It looked like it was flaking, like old wallpaper. The stairs beside him creaked and that took his attention away. They creaked under his every step and he opened the door when he got to the top.

There was a cavern of gems, sparkling blue ones poking out from the rock and glittering red ones in boxes. The cavern presented a path and Steven followed it until he came to the center of the cavern. The Other Garnet was slumped on the ground in the middle of the center.

“Hello,” he said. She slowly raised her head.

“Hello,” she replied.

“You wanted to show me something?”

The Other Garnet pointed at the gems and it was quiet again.

“Is this real?” Steven asked.

“As real as you want it to be; the Other Mother will do anything for you.”

The Other Garnet’s button eyes felt like they bore into his soul. “You do not like the Other Mother.”

“I just met her yesterday,” Steven stammered.

The Other Garnet listened to this, her expression unchanging. It felt like an eternity before she spoke again.

“What do you think of a monster that rebels against what it is supposed to do?”

Her head slumped down again, like the strings of marionette were cut down. The question stuck with Steven, and he left the cavern not long after.

It stuck with him even as the Other Mother bid him goodnight as she tucked him into bed.

-

The next day his dad said he was going to drive into town to buy tickets for the musical. In the afternoon Steven went down to Pearl and Amethyst’s place. Garnet was there as well, engrossed in a book. There was tea and cookies and Pearl explained it was their make-shift book club.

Amethyst passed a book to Steven, one that was hardcover and thick. He settled on the couch beside Garnet and started reading.

When Pearl got up to replenish the tea kettle with water Steven said, “I saw a girl the other day, by the woods.”

“Connie,” Pearl replied. “She likes to explore those woods. She’s a good girl.”

“She’s the only one that likes Pearl’s weird tea,” Amethyst said, “Marques Grey or whatever.”

She grinned as she held out her cup to Steven. “Here, drink this. It tastes so much better-“

“Goodness, Amethyst, don’t give him _that_ tea,” Pearl said, peering over the whistling kettle. “You’ll give him cavities.”

“It’s just this once, it’s not gonna hurt him,” Amethyst called back.

“I saw you pour at least two cups of sugar into that!”

It devolved into an argument about health and food intake, one that showed it wasn’t the first time this happened. It was an argument that was a part of life and both sides were too equal in argument to really change the other’s mind.

It was too loud for Steven to ask his next question so he said to no one, “What do you think of a monster that rebels against what it is supposed to do?”

Garnet’s hand touched his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“That doesn’t help.” He didn’t say this. But he wanted to go to that Other World again.


	3. False

True to his thought, Steven went to unlock the door that night. He left the key and opened the door, crawling through the tunnel. When Steven entered the Other World there was no one there to greet him. Instead, when he walked into the kitchen, there was a pot of stew and a loaf of bread on the table with a note in front of the bowl.

Steven picked it up and read the note.

“Dear Steven,

Your friend is waiting for you in the woods. When you find her our neighbors downstairs will give you both a show.

Love, Mother.”

Steven put the note down on the table and scooped some of the stew with the ladle into the bowl. The potatoes and meat cut easily under his fork and before long Steven was mopping up the last of the sauce with the bread.

He placed the dishes by the sink and washed them. Then he put the remaining stew into the refrigerator. He opened the door and saw that outside there was only a path that led to a dense forest.

To Steven’s relief there were no pebbles or branches on the path; it was smoothly packed with soft dirt. He walked down the path and entered the forest, the path splitting off into different directions. He got on his hands and knees to look for footprints. Steven saw them going into the direction to the left and he got up. He clapped his hands together to get rid of the dirt but his pajama knees were still dirty.

He followed the footprints. The path was long and winding and the forest was devoid of noises.  
Steven looked up at the sky, a dark blue that stretched out endlessly. He wondered where the stars were.

When he looked ahead again a girl he recognized, with button eyes, was standing in front of him.

“Hello, Connie,” he stammered, “Or, uh, Other Connie.”

Other Connie put her hands behind her back and circled him, her mouth frozen in a grin. Her rain boots made imprints in the dirt. She reached out and grabbed Steven’s hand, pointing down the road.

“Yes, let’s go that way,” Steven supplied, but Other Connie began to run, so he focused on that instead.

In a blink of an eye they were at the bottom of the stairs leading to the lower apartment. Steven wiped his feet on the mat as Other Connie opened the door.

The room was pitch black but Other Connie led Steven to two chairs. When they sat down spotlights popped on.

The Other Amethyst and Pearl stood on a stage. Other Pearl was dressed in an elaborate, baby blue leotard and Other Amethyst was dressed in wrestling gear. They bowed to the children and then to each other.

The show was an amalgamation of ballet and wrestling. Other Pearl jumped and danced around Other Amethyst, who mimed taking down an imaginary opponent. It was like Other Pearl was a part of a cheering crowd or Other Amethyst was fighting a heckler that climbed the stage to mock Other Pearl.

They fell at the end and the lights went out. Steven let out a startled scream and the spotlights flashed back on. The stage was covered with fine, white sand.

“Is it over?” Steven asked to nobody. He looked over and saw that Other Connie stood up to leave. Steven did the same and followed her out of the room.

The Other Mother was at the top of the stairs and she cooed, “Was the show wonderful?”

“I liked it,” Steven said. He took the last step. “But there was sand on the stage at the end.”

“That’s show business,” the Other Mother said vaguely.

They walked around to the front of the house. Before Steven could walk up the steps the Other Connie grabbed his hand. When he looked at her the Other Connie’s smile looked strained. She pulled on his hand towards the woods.

“Come on, now,” said the Other Mother. She pulled Steven’s hand free. “Steven must go now. Is that okay?”

The Other Connie looked at Steven pleadingly before nodding. She reluctantly turned to leave.

The Other Mother gently pushed on Steven’s back and he walked up the stairs.

“I’m sorry your friend was incomplete,” the Other Mother said. “I do not know her voice, but everything here should be right.”

Steven didn’t answer. They went to the living room and the Other Mother settled down onto a chair.

“My Steven, do you like it here?”

“I… yes,” he replied. “I like that you are here.”

“Then there’s a little thing you need to do if you’d like to stay here.”

The Other Mother reached for a box on the table beside the chair. She opened it up and showed him its contents.

A pair of big, black buttons and a needle rested in the box.


	4. Distorted

The Other Mother took one of the buttons and admired it, rolling it with her thumb and index finger.

“I promise it will only hurt a little,” she said. “And you can choose whatever color you want.”

“No!” Steven yelled when he found his voice. “I don’t want button eyes!”

“But you want to stay here, don’t you?” The Other Mother asked; there was a whine in her voice. She put the button back in the box and stepped forward, almost threateningly.

Steven inched closer to the door. “I didn’t.”

There was silence, and it was shattered when the Other Mother’s face twisted with rage. She let out a bloodcurdlingly scream, so loud that Steven froze. The Other Mother’s features became angular, her skin paper white and her curls became limp and matted.

She stumbled backwards, and clapped her hands over her eyes. She muttered over and over, her voice rough and sharp, “I won’t become a Beldam, I am not like them.”

The walls began to flake and everything around Steven became white as snow. The Other Mother screamed, “Run,” and Steven bolted through the door. He crashed against the wall as her ran, leaving hot pain in his shoulder, and he tumbled through the door in his own world.

Steven pushed his hand against the door as he locked it. He ran to the kitchen and forcefully opened the key drawer, throwing the key inside. His heart was racing and he ran to the refrigerator, opened it and grabbed a small carton of orange juice. He unscrewed the cap and gulped down the juice.

Steven coughed when he finished drinking, and he wiped away the juice that stuck to his mouth. He shoved the carton back into the refrigerator. Steven ran upstairs and collapsed onto his bed, sleep overtaking him after many tosses and turns.

-

Steven blurrily opened his eyes, the sunlight shining on his bed. He rubbed at his eyes and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw the doll on the chair next to his bed.

It was a replica of Connie, down to the plastic glasses that covered her button eyes and felt hair that fell to the hem of her yellow raincoat. Steven threw off the covers and took the apache tear out of the doll’s lap. He held the doll and ran down the stairs, tripped on the third step and crashed to the floor. The doll flew out of his hands into the living room.

“Steven!” His dad cried out, running to his son. He was holding a spatula and Steven could smell waffles.

“Are you okay?” His dad helped him up and Steven put a hand to his heart. His knee stung.

“My knee hurts,” he said. He looked down and saw blood stain his pajama knee, seeping through the dirt.

“Oh,” his dad winced. “There’re bandages in the bathroom. I’ll make a fire and we’ll eat breakfast, okay?”

Steven nodded and limped to the bathroom. He rolled up his pajama leg and mopped up the blood with a tissue. He took a large band-aid and put it on the wound. He went up to his room and changed his clothes.

He went back downstairs and found the doll in the living room. Steven sat down in front of the fireplace and wondered if he could burn the doll. But his dad told him a long time ago that even burning paper could send flaming bits up onto the roof so a doll could be much worse.

His dad brought in the breakfast; Steven’s waffles had more than enough syrup and whipped cream. He began to eat as his dad made the fire. The waffles in that moment tasted better than anything in the Other World.

At the end of breakfast Steven helped clean up the dishes. He got the doll before going to the computer room. He booted up the large computer and signed into his account. He searched the word that the Other Mother said and the first result was from a dictionary.

“bel*dam  
noun _archaic_

an old woman  
-a malicious and ugly woman, especially an old one; a witch”

But below the definition was an anthology on mythical monsters and Steven clicked on the link.

“III. Monsters that reside in urban areas  
Collected by N. Gailman”

Steven scrolled down the table of contents and clicked beldam.

“Beldam: A female monster akin to a spider. She creates a web of delightful worlds for children and consumes them when she is bored of them. If hungered, her world starts to fall apart. The best way to kill a beldam is to block off her nest and let her starve.”

Steven closed the browser and leaned back. He looked at the doll and squeezed the toy. A plan started to turn in his head. He couldn’t let this Beldam prey on another child. Steven would execute his plan later that night, when everyone in this house went into town for the musical.


	5. Truth

Steven’s dad made him dinner and said, “We’ll be back late,” as he ruffled Steven’s hair. His dad left with an umbrella, as it was pouring outside.

Steven chewed on the crust of his grilled cheese sandwich and stared at his tomato soup. His heart pounded when he heard the car outside rumble to life and drive away. He ate the rest of his dinner, slowly, and cleaned up when he was done. He took out the key from the drawer and breathed out. He took the doll from the counter and headed to the living room.

Steven stared at the door for what felt like an eternity. He unlocked the door, and when nothing happened he felt relief bubble in his chest. The bubble burst when the Beldam forced the door open and she scuttled into the living room. Her screams made Steven’s ears ring. He flung the doll into the doorway and locked the door so quickly that he even surprised himself.

He ran, the Beldam close on his heels, and Steven yanked open the back door and stumbled into the garden. His injured knee stung with pain.

Steven breathed fearfully and he turned to see the Beldam towering over him, her face marred with cracks and twisted with wrath.

“You dare disobey me?” she snarled. “I am your mother!”

“She’s _here_ ,” Steven cried out. “I can’t keep looking for her in other places.”

At his cry the Beldam stood silently, the rain running down her porcelain face. Her face was blank, like his words had crushed her to the core.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Steven said, almost challenged. “Don’t go after her.”

“I can’t,” the Beldam said, strained, after a silence. “I never want to hurt any of you.”

She hung her head. “They’ve always left; I’ve been alone for so _long_.”

Steven stepped closer. “You knew what would happen if they stayed.”

The Beldam was silent, and her body was shaking. Steven went to her and hugged her.

“I want to love you but I don’t know how,” his Other Mother whispered.

“You knew how,” Steven said. “I love you, too.”

There was a final, shuddering breath and Steven felt her lean into his shoulder. There was nothing in his arms and when Steven opened his eyes there was sand that was washed away by the rain.

-

In the morning Steven woke up early and went about the morning rituals. He went outside to the back and buried the key beside the sign that said, “Rose’s Garden.”

“Hello.” Steven looked up to see the girl standing there. “I’ve, um, seen you before but I haven’t been able to talk. I’m Connie.”

She held out her hand and Steven shook it. “I’m Steven.”

Connie drew her hand away and said, “I’m going to go to the library. Do you want to with me?” It sounded nervous.

“Yeah, I would,” Steven said, smiling. “Oh, um, wait a minute. I have to do something first.”

“Oh, okay.”

Steven stepped around her, smiling reassuringly, and he ran up to the porch and up to his room. He walked over to the alcove where the lumpy present and unopened envelope rested. Steven sat down and picked up the present, carefully peeling away the wrapping paper like it was a precious commodity.

It was a stuffed, pink lion. The crochet lines were small and the pink mane was puffed out, soft to the touch. The eyes and snout were shining black beads. Steven hugged the stuffed lion tightly.

He reached for the envelope and carefully tore it open. He pulled out the card inside and looked at it. The cover declared his age in thick, green ink and a dusting of green glitter was scattered around the number. Steven took in a breath and opened the card.

“Dear Steven,

Happy Birthday! When you read this it’ll be the day before we move. I’m so excited to go to our new home. It’ll be difficult to leave but we’ll keep in contact with everyone. Dad will play his guitar when we’re on the road so we won’t get bored, like on our road trip last year.

I just want to say, Steven, that I love you so much. You’re a wonderful boy and I’m thankful everyday that you are my son.

I love you and happy birthday.

Love, Mom.”

Steven breathed and closed the card. He hugged the stuffed lion again, blinking away a few tears.

After a moment he stood up and placed the lion on top of the card. He walked over to his chair and picked up the necklace. Steven slipped it over his head and held the apache tear.

He squeezed it gently and said, “I’m not gonna run away anymore.”

He let it rest against his chest and went to go with Connie. For the first time in a long while Steven felt peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, and happy Halloween. 
> 
> I think this got more metaphorical than I intended it to.


End file.
